A letter to my husband on our 15th wedding anniversary

Dear Honey,

The world remembers September 11^th  because of what happened 12 years ago.  It is a day of contemplation, reverence and determination to prevent such tragedy from every happening again; however, today is also our wedding anniversary.

So, honey, I know we have to share this day with a memory that broke our hearts.  I remember our 3^rd anniversary; how we didn’t answer the phone that kept ringing all morning because we stayed in bed longer than normal.  We cuddled with our 1 year-old son Chandler and contemplated what we would name the new baby growing inside my belly.  All our dreams had come true.  We had love, babies, a swimming pool (ok, maybe that was just one of my dreams come true) and each other.  What more could two people ask for?  When my mom, who had been calling all morning, finally got through to us, we turned the television on and felt the world crashing around us.  I remember feeling foolish for bringing another child into the world.  Everything felt lost.  Would our nation; our world ever be safe?  You put your arms around me and we prayed.  All we could do was hope.

This day is still very solemn for both of us, but this morning I’ve been looking through our wedding album and daydreaming.  I can remember everything like it was yesterday; the way we laughed, 

the way I bossed around the photographer, 

or what about when we tried to set up my best friend with your best friend.  

What about how the children I nannied and loved became my beautiful flower girls, 

and how my little sisters wanted to stay right at my side.

and how right from the start we both insisted on equality in our relationship.  

I guess I had to show you how strong I was!  

Mostly, I remember every kiss.

 Never had I felt more safe.  Never had I felt more loved.  

Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.  You continually surprise me with your kindness and love.  Every day you build me into a better person and I’m so happy to share eternity with you.

All my love,

Laura

Latest Trashy Furniture Finds

Oh my goodness.  What a busy couple of weeks. It's no fun painting in 110 plus degrees (ok, it's kinda fun), but it's amazing the motivation and inspiration that comes when one plays Christian music all day long.  I really enjoy air1 and k-love.  I challenge you to listen and see the difference it makes in your day.  Things are going great at Antique Plaza and I thought I’d show you some of my great trashy finds and furniture re-do's.

This piece was so fun to experiment with color.  

SOLD!

I tried to create a 70’s color scheme. 

Here's another mid-century high boy I did up. I love the owl fixtures.

Gray is a great selling color.  It’s different enough to be trendy, but neutral enough to be classy.

Here's another gray shade.

SOLD!

And Tiffany blue.

SOLD!

And one can never go wrong with classic cream.  

SOLD!

SOLD!

SOLD!

SOLD!

I love showcasing my trash at Antique Plaza.  Click here for store information and location.

Have a great weekend.

Linking up to:

Only half of the China hutch, please.

I'm always on the look out for a gorgeous dresser, but when I was shopping a few weeks ago what I found was a gorgeous China hutch.  I have worked on China hutch's before and wasn't interested in taking on such a large project.  Just the thought of taping off the glass gave me the chills and there was no way it was fitting into my SUV.  

I was just about to leave the thrift store when I had an idea.  The China hutch came in two pieces and I had a feeling that bottom piece would look just fine as a buffet.  Since the price was right, I bought that China hutch, only to donate the top hutch back to the thrift store.  I brought home my gorgeous, heavy, solid wood dresser and painted it a creamy white.  

It was still a huge project, but painting is my therapy.

I guess I need a lot of therapy!

Linking up to:

Visiting Prescott and Honoring the Fallen 19

All summer long I’d been dreaming about a trip with my kids; just the kids and I somewhere in the mountains where it was cool.  I wanted an experience with them where we could just be together, no agenda, no commercialism and no case of the gimmies; just us and nature. 

Throughout the summer I’ve been brainstorming what we could do, but the days were ticking done.  School would be starting in just a few weeks, so one morning on a whim, I decided to a little research.  By noon, the kids and I were packed and headed to Prescott.

The counselor’s parents were in Prescott for a few weeks vacationing in the cool pines.  The kids adore their grandparents, so this was an added bonus.  The drive up was about 2 hours and by lunch time, we were eating under the pines of a local Mexican restaurant. 

That evening, we sat in the beautiful grass of the county courthouse and enjoyed an outdoor concert.  

The kids ran around chasing squirrels and climbing trees.  

We ate ice cream and then checked into our hotel for the night.  So far, the trip was everything I’d been dreaming about.

The next morning, we decided to drive out to Goldwater lake so after breakfast, we all piled into the car.  The drive up the mountain allowed us to see the entire town and we could finally roll the windows of the car down without dying of heat. We were discussing plans for meeting the counselor’s parents later for lunch when just around the mountain turn a barricade of police officers approached us from the other direction.  It was as beautiful as it was upsetting.  What was going on?  I’d never seen so many motorcycle police officers before, all riding side by side in procession.  Behind the police officers were dozens of fire trucks and that’s when I realized we were passing a funeral procession for one of the 19 fallen fire fighters.  My eyes filled with tears and I just started crying.  Chandler grabbed my hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.  

Through my tears, I told the kids about the brave men who had been killed in the Yarnell fire just 1 and 1/2 weeks earlier.

image found here

I called my in-laws and asked if we could meet them earlier, as Goldwater Lake was closed for the funeral.  It just didn’t seem right for us to be planning a day of fun and play while those who lost loved ones were mourning.  On our way back into town, we drove past the growing memorial for those who had fallen.  My in-laws meet us at the Hot Shots fire station and under rolling thunder clouds we walked the wall.

Once again, tears ran down my checks as I felt the enormous presence of those brave men.  I am so thankful my in-laws were there to answer questions and hold hands with my children.  

The memorial had grown to surround the entire fire station.

My kids all signed their names on this cross.  Eden wanted to draw a rainbow.

It was so spiritual, almost holy.

I was so touched by the thoughtfulness that went into the displays at the memorial.  

A sister wrote a letter to her fallen brother, a friend brought in-and-out burger for his fallen best friend, wives, children, parents, and even strangers left poems, artwork and other displays expressing love.  

One of the poems discussed the battle we fight daily with Satan and how God needed these brave men to help combat the fires of hell in these troubling days.  Many items of 19 were displayed; 19 baseballs for first pitches in heaven, 19 flags, 19 teddy bears, 19 toy fire trucks, etc.

Some personal items were left too; a fallen firefighters snowboard and boots, a pair of gloves and a hat, hatchets and badges; it all brought to life the reality and great sorrow of our loss. 

Because these 19 fire fighters were all our brothers, they were all our sons and husbands and best friends.  I looked around at the beautiful town of Prescott with its surrounding mountains and valleys.  Never before had I realized all this was because of the protections of those who keep forest fires under control.  It would all be gone if someone wasn’t willing to work to keep it preserved.

 

Firefighters from all over the state were in Prescott not just honoring those who had fallen, but also offering assistance to the community.  I imagine every firefighter in Prescott wanted to attend the funerals of their brothers, but they were still needed to fight fires in the area. I saw firetrucks from Glendale, Nogales, Gilbert,Wilcox and other towns from Arizona.  

I was so grateful to be there with my kids.  They were able to feel and react and wonder about God’s plan for each one of us.  They were able to express gratitude and prayers.  They were able to imagine a world without their dad and feel great sorrow for the children who would no longer have a daddy coming home every day.  They were able to contemplate what it will be like to live with God again.  One of my son’s said maybe he would be a firefighter.  I felt like my children grew up a little that day.

Through out the day, fire trucks and funeral processions continued to travel through the streets and my heart fell in love with the town of Prescott.

For more information on the Yarnell fire, click here.

Goodbye Qcumberz, Hello Antique Plaza

How often do I conduct self-inventory on my life?  You know, those little conversations you have in your head where you question motives, decisions and priorities?  Sometimes the voice speaking back isn’t very realistic, hopeful or kind while other days the skies the limit and your dreams seem within reach.  You think you have unlimited resources and time; you can do it all!

For example, I thought I would hold true to a promise I'd made with the kids to let them get another dog.

Sure, I could keep up with all the demands of the little endeavor (or so I thought).  

Yeah, that didn't turn out too well and I ended up giving the very large dog to a friend of mine who lives up in Payson.

After some time, the kids had another idea and the smaller dog seemed to be a better fit.

And so it is for selling trash, somethings stick and some things don't.

As you know, I have had a space at Qcumberz for over two years. It has been a blast and I’ve met so many wonderful people.  

Qcumberz is in downtown Phoenix, about a 45 minute commute from my home.  

Last fall, I started making a few calls to vintage shops in the east valley near my home, thinking it would be great to be in two valley locations.  My trash at Qcumberz was selling well and I wondered what other opportunities could I drum up?  I called Antique Plaza, a shop about 10 minutes away and was told they didn’t have any space available to rent.  I thanked the manager for her time, but before hanging up asked if she would call me is something became available soon.  I shared my name and gave her my phone number when the manager asked if I wrote on the blog My Dear Trash. 

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, surprised she knew about my blog. 

“We would love to have you at Antique Plaza.  I run several vignettes throughout the store, but will consolidate my stuff so you can have some space.  When would you like to move it?”

So, in October 2011 I moved into Antique Plaza on Main St. and Center in downtown Mesa.  

For about six months, I ran both locations.  I worked on evenings and weekends to keep the spaces stocked, but last month I knew I’d reached a point where I couldn’t squeeze anything else into my life without pushing something out.  I wasn’t willing to make compromises on family time and workouts, cooking healthy dinners and reading bedtime stories, plus I was tired, really tired, so I had a decision to make.  Even with all it had to offer, I decided it was time to move on from Qcumberz. 

Things have been really busy at Antique Plaza and I love the quick commute back and forth.  Here are a few things I’ve found recently to fill my space.